


Security Blanket

by by_no_one_more_than_me (Lady_Cleo)



Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Guardian Angels, Implied Relationships, Just squish a plushy thing to feel the fluff, Looking out for stuff you care about, Protection, This fandom is taking over my life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-05-04 14:27:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14595000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Cleo/pseuds/by_no_one_more_than_me
Summary: Rio making sure no one messes with his woman. Beth figuring out that means... her.





	Security Blanket

**Author's Note:**

> This is a modified plot bunny I adopted from ladycat713. Basically, Beth notices people acting weird around her and it turns out it's because of Rio and her perceived relationship with him.

The first time it happens Beth doesn't think much of it. Just Rio protecting his investment.

She's watering the plants in the living room window when the street lamps come on. Sitting just outside a ring of illumination, barely visible in the dark, is a familiar looking black car. She looks, waits, goes back to what she's doing, looks again. It's still there.

After dinner and dishes and homework checks and goodnight kisses, she makes a pot of tea and checks out the window again. The car's still there.

5 minutes later, she's carrying a traveler's mug of steaming herbal tea and a little plastic honey bear out to the car. A knock on the window, the soft whir of a motor, and Rio's looking at her from the driver's seat like it's the world's most flirtatious traffic stop. Beth translates nerves and confusion into a slightly defensive statement.

"You only gave us the cash a few days ago."

"I know." His tone is a little placating.

"Did I miss a text?" she queries in a neutral tone.

"Nah."

Beth tries again. "You wanna come in?"

"Naw. I gotta roll in a few." He makes a show of checking the clock on his phone. A few quiet beats, then, "Thanks though."

"So... if I didn't miss a summons, and you know the money's not washed yet, and I don't  _think_  I've done anything to set you off the last few days..." He chuckles softly at that. "What are you doing here?"

His eyes are so much darker in the shadows. "Casing the Baker house." He points at the split-level a few lots down without shifting his gaze off her.

She rolls her eyes before handing over the mug. "Well, their entertainment system's a few years old, but the Star Wars action figures are in the right side bedroom on the second floor and don't hurt the dogs. That little terrier is sweet." If he doesn't want to tell her, that's fine.

After that, she notices a sleek black car parked outside her house most nights. He always returns the mug with a thank you note, and his boys  ** _love_** her coffee.

~ ~ ~ ~

A few of his "friends" follow her sometimes, especially late at night, and she's grateful for the protections even on the nights nothing happens.

This is still Detroit, after all.

 ~ ~ ~ ~

Beth is at the market, doing a cost/benefit analysis of squinting wrinkles vs just putting on her reading glasses to check the nutrition facts on the damn package. She doesn't really have frown lines or crows feet or any other major wrinkles on her face, if you don't count the tiny scar on her forehead and the few warm creases at the corners of her eyes from the rare instances she has to genuinely smile.

Unbidden, Rio's sincere voice telling her she doesn't need the Botox from their ill-advised boost replays and makes a tendril of warmth curl low in her belly. She shakes herself out of her (probably) inappropriate musings, slips on the thin metal frames and goes back to seeing how much sodium is in a suggested serving of Flavor Blast Goldfish.

"Yowzah. You wear those things anywhere besides the snack aisle?" The oily voice belongs to a greasy stranger who's not quite hiding his leer. Beth spins the wheel of reaction and lands on freezing civility.

"None of your business. Excuse me." She doesn't really want to turn her back on him, so she tries sliding past. His cart turns not so accidentally to box her in against the Cheetos module taking up almost half the aisle.

"Hey. C'mon. I'm just tryna be...  _friendly_."

Beth lets out a little huff, looking up and down the aisle for escape, fighting to keep her expression calm and her panic from rising. "I have enough friends, thanks." She digs into her bag for something she can use as a makeshift weapon, readers sliding down her nose a little.

She doesn't notice him reaching for her until his hand bursts into her line of sight like the shark from  _Jaws_. She straightens with a little gasp, trying to barricade herself behind her massive purse.

One second his fingers are an inch from her nose, the next his feet are a few inches off the ground. Beth turns wide eyes from her would-be space invader to the familiar faces of the men surrounding her like sentient shields. Somehow she's more at ease when  _they_  do it.

Their only points of contact are fingers digging into his flabby biceps and Carlos' hand at his throat. They're holding him up three-handed. Words are ground out in a low, borderline conversational growl. "Don't touch what's not yours. And if you lay another finger on a woman without permission, you lose it. Understand?" The rando has the presence of mind to whimper as he's hoisted another inch into the air, toes swinging pointlessly above the battered linoleum. Carlos squeezes the fingers around the loser's neck for emphasis. " **Got it?** "

His gurgled "yaass" appeases Rio's guys, and a second later he's scurrying off towards organic produce. Beth just... blinks.

The gentleman to her right - Raza, if the swirling ink on the side of his throat is to be believed - asks if she's alright and lets her step out while he gets a hand on her cart. Carlos tells her the glasses are cute, leaving Beth blushing softly as he shepherds her towards juice and sports drinks for the kids' games this week. Miguel brings up the rear like a silent caboose and they knock out her shopping list in record time before escorting her home.

~ ~ ~ ~

It finally gets weird.

Well... weird- **er**.

Beth has errands to run. Rio has his guys busy with a project and texts her via burner to sit tight a few hours til someone can go with her. It's the wrong message right then, arriving just on the heels of a wheedling yet subtly insulting mega-text from Dean.  ** _Ugh._**  She's so done with posturing little boys for the day. Grabbing her receipt organizer and a sassy blonde wig, Beth heads for the city limits to make some returns and wash some cash.

She's walking to her car, hands empty, purse full of freshly laundered notes, when she notices footsteps behind her. The faint funhouse reflection she makes out in the side of a Prius makes her nervous; this isn't one of Rio's guys.

She speeds up and jabs the unlock button. Her fingers have just brushed the door handle when someone latches onto her upper arm and something hard is jammed under her shoulder blade as they spin her away from the car.

"Alright. Nice and easy and no one gets hurt." The voice is a low growl, and her mind flashes longingly to Rio for a split second. He's probably gonna be mad about this, but he'll be madder if she gets shot - if only because it means he can't shoot her himself. "Hand me the keys, gimme the bag and don't turn around."

She's proud she doesn't shake or scream or do something stupid. She calmly hands over the keyfob and slides the purse straps off her shoulder, already planning her apology - when her wig starts to slide off. A few synthetic blond strands are caught in his grip on the straps, and without warning her copper waves are suddenly flashing fire in the sunset.

There's silence and unexpected stillness.

"Uhhhh.... w-what's your name?" The growl has turned into a light quavery tone. He sounds like a puzzled customer service rep.

"...What?"

"Your name!" he insists, the gun digging a little deeper into her muscle.

She really doesn't want to share personal info with a carjacker. "Why do you need to know?"

Beth can feel him whipping his head around like he's expecting a SWAT response. "Be honest with me. Is your name... Beth?"

" _What?!_ "

"Answer the damn question! Are you Beth?!"

"Umm... yes?" There's a sort of anguished deflating noise behind her, followed by rapidly departing footfalls. She risks a peek and spies a lanky guy in a Geek Squad uniform sprinting like the devil's on his heels.

He's out of sight by the time Paul Blart's slower cousin comes wheezing to a stop a few feet away, asking between gulps of air if she's alright. "We noticed the guy grab you on the monitors." She tamps down her irritation that she'd already be jacked with glacial response times like these, and makes a quick mental note to  _never_ set up a meet in this parking lot.

She doesn't want to wait for police but he insists she fill out the incident report he has tucked under a slightly damp armpit. While she pens in a bunch of lies, he asks her how she got the guy to let her go. Neatly recovering, Beth spins a variant of the speech she'd given Rio about why he couldn't shoot them all those weeks ago. It seems like it might've worked and Security Wayde is certainly buying it, wishing her a good day and telling her she's real lucky that had worked.

He's not wrong and niggling little suspicions play hopscotch up and down her spine as she drives on autopilot to the warehouse _._  The guys have the door open before she's out of the car, and Carlos takes her down to Rio's...  _office_. He looks up from his paperwork when she walks in, slides his eyes to Carlos and goes back to writing while Beth is gently centered in the room and the door is shut.

The silence grows a little uncomfortable and Beth finally overrules the soft  _skritch-scratch_ of his pen with a pointed "What's going on?"

Okay. She has his attention, even if he has no idea what she's talking about. She spells it out and about the time the gun is being jabbed harder into her back, the cheap Bic in his fingers snaps in a tiny puff of aerosolized ink. He gets a grip on himself and reaches for a glittering fountain pen to rotate around his knuckles before gesturing her to continue. She concludes and expresses her confusion.

"Why was my name all it took to make him run?" Dead silence. "Rio?" His eyes drop. The corner of his mouth twitches.  _"Rio?"_

One shoulder moves in a silky negligent roll, too smooth to be a mere shrug. "Guess he heard the word."

"What... word?"

"Don't mess with Beth." Rio goes back to his notation, leaving Beth even more puzzled than before. "Common courtesy, darlin'. Or maybe just common sense. You don't mess with the boss... you don't mess with the boss's lady."

_Ooooo-kay... except -_ "Rio, I'm not your... lady." The speculative amusement when his eyes flick up to hers is  **unholy**. "I mean... we aren't... dating."

One brow quirks to top off his signature smirk. "You sure about that, Red?"

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated. I'm building a raft to make sure I don't drown in a river of fluff and feels.


End file.
